Dreadful Nonsense

It's been a really intense few days, and it's not over yet, and I'm so tired I feel like my eyes are going to fall right out of my head and roll away out of arm's reach, and to be honest I wouldn't mind if they did because at least then it'd be dark and if it's dark then maybe I could get some sleep. And I run from sad to happy to hysterically upset to slightly bored to grumpy to cheery to scared to relieved in the space of a minute, and sometimes I forget what I was saying or listening to or hearing or talking about or where I am.

It's funny how one event that pops up out of nowhere can change everything you had planned. Nothing else seems important right now, but everything else is lovely to think about so that you're not thinking about the one thing that needs the most attention.

I was walking along the sea front today, blinded by the sun and blinded by the fact that I was awake again, again, and so soon after I had been awake before, with the time in between, the time for sleeping, so short and unfairly cut off in it's prime. And I was staring at the sea, walking along, walking in that silence you can have between friends that either means you're both incredibly comfortable in each other's company that nothing needs to be said, or that you've been talking about the same things over and over again since Thursday night and nothing else can be said, or that you're both too tired from talking about the same things over and over again and you can't talk because if you start talking you'll forget how to walk and fall in to the sea, and I was thinking about that stupid phrase that goes "you can choose your friends but you can't choose your family". And I don't think that's true. I don't think you choose your friends. I think your friends choose you.

I've got lots of friends, most of whom I never make even the most passing of references to on this blog, because they either don't know that I keep this blog and I don't want to go talking behind their backs, or because they do know I keep this blog and have asked me not to talk about them because they're important and special and don't want their secrets revealed to the world because of the inevitable assassin attempts that would be sure to follow. And some of the people that read this blog know some of my friends, and I can't say things about anyone for fear that information would pass in to the evil hands of others who would then use it against them and I would be in trouble and not have as many friends as previously. And especially over the last few days I've been going through things that I'd desperately love to blog about, even just so I could get them out of my system and inflict them on to the internet instead, but I can't talk about them, because it's not my place.

Blogs are really difficult to police. You can't ban people from coming to them, much as you'd like to. You have to be really careful about who you write about and what you say, because things hang around on the net and come back to bite you. Lots of people I know read this, and lots of people I don't know read this, and some people that I do know but I don't think read this probably do read this, and some people I really don't like at all read this, and you're supposed to write everything bearing everyone in mind. And a lot of the time all you want to do is leave jokes for JC and Mrs Bishop - because all we ever talk about is each other's blogs, and nothing else - and you can't do that because that would be mean.

So I was walking along the sea front this morning, and I was thinking about all of the above, and I thought I'd try to write it down, instead of writing down what I'd really like to.

This entry was posted on 03 May 2004 at 3:45 pm. 0 comments

Dreadful Nonsense

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